


Papa’s Yuletide Beatings

by Atemluver



Series: Kinky Adventures of The Little Vampire and His Spider-Papa [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Ace Peter Parker, Ace Wade, Aftercare, BDSM, Blood, Caning, Daddy Dom Legs Peter, Daddy Issues, Figging, Little Wade, M/M, Masochism, Off-Screen Kink Negotiation, Papa Kink, Peter is a creepy spider person, Peter is an adult, Praise Kink, Punishment, Sadism, Size Kink, Spanking, Spider Venom, Vampire Wade, Wade cries, Wade is trapped in his 12-year-old body, Watersports, aka small ginger root goes in Wade’s butt, bingo:family, but Wade is 600+ and very much an adult, but Wade loves it, but he spews blood, but that is all, good for him, happy holidays ya filthy animals, holiday fic, just a little age play, no one fucks, no underage shenanigans on my watch, santa, slight dubious consent, spidery Peter, who gives me nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27927031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atemluver/pseuds/Atemluver
Summary: ‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, Everyone knew Wade fucked up, that’s without a doubt.For this wee vampire had been most naughty on the night of Christmas Eve, Now a painful punishment from his Spider-Papa he is sure to receive.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: Kinky Adventures of The Little Vampire and His Spider-Papa [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044948
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62
Collections: Isn't it Bromantic- Holiday Bingo 2020, Isn't it Bromantic?





	Papa’s Yuletide Beatings

**Author's Note:**

> Well well well, after popular demand (okay it was like 5 people but that counts for me okay?) these festive cryptids are back for a heartwarming and skin crawling holiday adventure! If you have not already, please read the first story in this series that provides some more background on Wade and Peter along with their relationship. You can however read this as a stand-alone if you wish, but I highly recommend [the halloween one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27246826) for more details on the world building. 
> 
> This fic is also a part of the  _ Isn’t it Bromantic  _ servers Holiday bingo event and is a fill for _Family_. 
> 
> For the people that didn’t see the disclaimer on  _[Papa Can You Hear Me?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27246826) _ here it is once again:
> 
> **BIG OL’ SCARY DISCLAIMER:** Within this fictional story, Wade is an immortal vampire who is trapped in his body from when he ceased being human, aka he appears to look like a child. However, Wade is in-fact mentally an adult despite his very youthful appearance. It should go without saying that this fan fiction in  **_no way shape or form_ ** condones  **_any_ ** acts that involve real-life minors. Again, this is a fictional story between fictional adult characters and should only be consumed/viewed as such. 
> 
> A quick new addition to the disclaimer for this particular story: After the events of  _ Papa Can You Hear Me? _ , Wade and Peter have discussed their relationship and kink thoroughly with each other and do have a negotiated safeword and limits. For plot and story reasons, this information does not particularly come up during the fic which is why I included the ‘slight dubious consent’ tag, although the main characters are in fact very much consenting throughout the entirety of this story, even if it may appear otherwise. As always, this is merely a work of fiction and is in no way a proper or accurate representation on BDSM and the lifestyle. 

Ah yes, the time of the winter solstice. When the days become nights and nights draw on for days. To fight the dark and cold outside, people gather for ritualistic festivities bringing the warmth of light and company to their homes. A season filled with _‘good tidings’_ and _‘jolly carols.’_ And what could possibly be filled with more holiday spirit than an eight-eyed spider man with a thirst for blood, and an ancient vampire boy filled with oodles of warm, red and gooey holiday cheer? Nothing, that’s what. 

So gather round all ye faithful, for ‘twas the night before Christmas, and Wade couldn’t _wait_ to spread his holiday cheer to all. 

* * *

Well, okay, maybe this story doesn't _start_ on the night _before_ Christmas, but Peter had read Wade the festive scriptures of that Christmas tale and it just sounded like such a cool thing to say (let the vampire boy have his fun, _God_ .) Wade may have been around for centuries but _‘Christmas’_ wasn’t really a thing back then. Okay, so maybe it _was_ a thing but it was a lot more...church-run and less...whatever capitalistic bullshit these modern folks are on about nowadays. 

_Seriously, why are Christians spouting this ‘war on Christmas’ shit? What is a ‘Black Friday’? Do they mean ‘Black Death Friday’?_

Because Wade has a few things to say if it's the latter... 

_Ahem,_ anywho, back to the story at hand. Turns out there’s a ton of these _‘Christmas traditions’_ that Wade was utterly unaware of. With the passing of the Americans’ foul holiday of consuming way too much fowl, it seemed almost as if by flipping a switch, _everything_ was now festive. Old fat men with beards clad in crimson propped up everywhere, and for some strange reason parents just _gushed_ at the sheer notion of thrusting their child on the man's lap for some other freaky modern ritual. 

_And freaky it sure is._

Watching the small figures dance on Peter’s massive illusion screen in the living room, (to which Peter always corrected, _“It’s a TV, Wade.”_ What the hell even is this _‘tee vee? ’_ It's sorcery, that's what), Wade’s most entranced, and concerned, by the fat man in red. 

“Peter, what is the purpose of this plump man in red? Why do parents want to go to these _‘malls’_ and take pictures with one? Does it bring luck?” 

Peter looks down from his web burrow on the ceiling to the commercial playing on the Television. “Oh him? That’s Saint Nick.” 

“Saint Nick...so he is with the church? How are so many people saints? Is it easier for the modern folk?” Wade questions, as another play unfolds about soup on the magic screen. 

“No, he’s a spirit.” 

The vampire gulps as he looks up at the ceiling into Peter’s eight eyes. “S-spirit?” 

Now Wade may be a vampire demon creature of his own, but spirits are _scary._ They are invisible and like can possess humans and shit! No thank you, sir. 

“That’s right,” comes the spider’s answer as he gently drops down from the ceiling onto the couch. “He’s here to make sure that all people under five feet behave before Christmas, or else.” 

“Or else what?” 

Peter’s eyes just blink in a disorderly, innocent fashion. “Or else they get punished of course.” 

“P-p-punished?” Wade gapes. Now this sounds absolutely _terrifying._ How are people supposed to be jolly when there’s this threat looming?!

“Yep,” his Papa’s long slim fingers rest gently on his shoulders as Wade turns to meet his gaze. “Why do you think parents bring their kids to see him? So they can get on his good side and avoid punishment of course.” 

“Papa please!” Wade crawls up into Peter’s lap, latching his arms tight around his Spider-Papa. “Please take me to see the red spirit so he doesn’t punish me!” He pleads, looking up with wide sparkling blue eyes. 

Papa’s soft lips come to his forehead as he flashes a smile with a hint of pearly white fang. “Of course sweetheart, we can go see him. But be sure to be a good boy before Christmas now.” 

Wade gives Peter another tight squeeze. “I’ll be good, Papa! I promise!”

He was _not,_ in fact, good. 

But before we can get to _that_ disaster, first comes the magical visit to the Man in Red's idyllic winter wonderland of a lair in the glamourous _Three Kings Plaza Shopping Center_ . And with a creepy spider person and a black death stained eternal vampire in a child's body going to mall filled with starry eyed children and their families, honestly, how bad could _that_ go now? 

* * *

Upon arrival at the place where the plump crimson spirit resides, Wade learns one very important lesson about modern life. That malls are terrible, terrible places. If Wade had to describe what hell was like, it would be in the exact image of this New York mall during the modern winter solstice festivities. 

Despite the perpetual darkness of the world outside, the whole indoor building is flooded with bright, blinding artificial lights. Lights on the ceilings, small flames of all colors and sizes strung around poles and trees and railings. As a matter of fact, it is brighter on the inside of this building than it was ever outside on any given day. All while being assaulted by the barrage of faux light, there are swarms of people. Mulling their ways through the halls, swarming like ants, in and out of the small shops, carrying bags upon boxes, all chattering, each louder than the next. And if all of that wasn’t bad enough… the children. Tons and tons of children, running, screaming, crying. _Fuck._ Wade feels so overwhelmed right now _he_ just wants to cry. 

But they are here on a _mission._ They must find this New York mall _Saint Nick_ so Wade can plead with him to not be punished on the day of Christ’s birth. So Wade squeezes Peter's gloved hand tight as they worm their way through the crowds of people to the center of the mall where _He_ resides. 

His dominion is built in a most impressive manner, in the heart of this place of commerce. A large red building in the background, along with a red sleigh, the chariot of which the spirit is perched upon, taking child after child onto its lap. 

Yet surprisingly, Saint Nick is not the only cryptid present. There are others, adjourned in red and green outfits and pointy ears. Surely they too must be quite ancient and powerful as upon their feet they wear long pointed shoes, like the nobles used to wear. If these high ranking cryptids are following this red spirit, clearly he is very powerful. 

Peter leads them to the long line of the queue to meet Saint Nick and Wade can’t help but squirm in place as he squeezes Peter’s hand firmly in his. 

Wade can see Peter gaze down at him, a squint of two sets of additional eyes just barely peeking out from under his hat. “What is it Wade, do you have to pee? I told you to go before we got here.” 

_Well sorry we had that hot cocoa on the way over. Now I have to go, I didn’t have to before. I don’t control when I have the urge to pee, gosh, Peter._

“But Papa,” Wade whines out, tugging on Peter’s coat sleeve as he continues to uncomfortably shift his weight from foot to foot. 

“No buts, Wade,” the brunette chastises as they inch closer to the front of the line. “Do you want to anger Saint Nick by being a naughty boy who couldn’t use the bathroom before visiting him?” 

The vampire bites his quivering lip as he looks down at the linoleum floor in shame. “No...” 

“Then you can hold it and be good now.” 

“Yes Papa.” 

For the record, it’s _super hard_ to hold your bladder when you’re stuck in a light torture chamber, with more people than you have interacted with in _centuries._ Everytime a child suddenly screams, or someone gets so close that Wade can't help but jump, he can feel himself inching closer and closer to a wet and warm disaster. Although on the bright side, at least it wouldn’t be blood…

But what’s most aggravating is how absurdly calm and collected Peter is. The man acts as though he’s done this a thousand times, that this _isn’t_ the most absolutely terrifying thing that could be happening right now. His gloved hand simply rubs down the vampire’s back as he quietly whispers, “You’re being so good sweetie, look we are almost there.” 

_Shit, fuck_! There they were, at the top of the line. The red spirit's eyes glance down over his small-framed glasses, seemingly peering into Wade’s ancient soul. He gives a smile most devious. Wade gulps. 

“Alright cutie, it’s your turn to see Santa!” One of the pointed eared cryptids calls them over, holding out a hand for Wade to take so he can be led straight to the belly of the beast. 

Wade just takes a step back, bumping against Peter whose gloved hands gently push Wade forwards. “Go on Wade, you begged me to bring you here to see him. You’re not going to waste this whole trip now are you?” 

Sure, Wade _did_ beg Peter to be taken to this _‘Santa,’_ but asking and standing in front of a glaring spirit are two entirely different things. It makes his skin crawl, his already cold blood run even colder. _On second thought, maybe these water analogies are a bad idea._

The pain in his tiny bladder is what finally motivates him to take the striped cryptid’s hand. The sooner he can plead for the spirit's mercy, the sooner he can find sweet relief in the shining white sanctuary of a bathroom stall. He's led to the top of the sleigh, where he is gently hoisted onto the man in red’s lap. _Santa’s_ hearty chuckle is terrifying, and the vampire presses his legs together tight as he bites his lip, looking straight into the eyes of evil themselves. 

“A-are you the spirit of Christmas?” he whispers, as he squirms on top of the man's leg. 

The creature lets out another roar as his gloved hand pats Wades back, an electrifying tingle running up Wade’s spine as his bladder aches in further agony. “Why of course child, I am Saint Nick, the spirit of Christmas. Now, have you been a good boy?” 

Vampires already weren’t known for their ruddy complexions, living in absolute darkness and solitude and all. But whatever color Wade _did_ have on his face had run far far away. Because here he is, perched on the lap of a malevolent spirit who punishes naughty people under five foot, and he's just been asked if he's a 'good boy.'

Which begs the question: _is_ Wade a good boy? 

According to the lore of the red spirit, it seems to only judge based on that year's list of good and bad deeds. So Wade’s original sins of becoming a vampire wouldn’t be considered, right? _Hmm, let’s think, what did Wade do this year?_ Well, he convinced Peter he was a little boy so he could get cuddles. But Peter knew he was a cryptid so...that _also_ doesn’t count...right? Other than that, he was just in his mansion all year not really doing much so he’s _totally_ been a good boy. 

“Yes! I’ve been a good boy!” he chimes frantically to the spirit, to which it cackles yet again. 

“Good good, now what would you like for Christmas?”

_What he wants for Christmas? Is this some sort of test? Is this how the spirit discerns who is lying about being good and who isn’t?_

Deciding to go with a safe, but true answer he simply replies, “I wanna be with Papa forever!” 

Saint Nick smiles down upon him, bouncing Wade on his knee. The boy tries not to squirm at the increasingly unbearable pressure on his tiny, ancient bladder. He's pretty sure _good_ boys don't squirm, no matter how bad they have to go. _He’s so close, he has to be good for Papa, and for the spirit._

“Well isn’t that sweet,” Santa booms out. “I’m sure you will be, child.” Wade just wants his appeal to be over so they can leave already and he can pee in comfort and joy. 

Just when he thought they were almost done, the pointy eared creature cackles out, “Ready for your picture with Santa?” 

_What? Picture? Oh holy shitballs._ Wade is a _vampire,_ as in no reflection and all of that jazz. Meaning, the second this long eared cryptid pushes the button on that camera device, everyone who sees the image will know something’s fishy. Because unlike spirits, vampires don’t photograph well. They can never get his good side anyway. 

“N-no thanks I’m good,” he stutters, quickly getting off the red spirit's lap, squeezing his legs tight in a feeble attempt to keep his waning composure in front of the spirit. 

“T-thanks Saint Nick…” 

“You’re very welcome, child.” 

As another child is ushered to the spirit, Wade dashes over to Peter, tugging on his coat and dancing in place to prevent from literally pissing all over himself. 

“P-papa I did it, I was a good boy! Now can we go to the bathroom, pleaseee,” Wade whines out. The corner of Peter’s eyes crinkle, a sure sign that he is smiling under his mask. 

“You were a very good boy, Papa’s so proud.” Peter’s gloved hand ruffles Wade’s soft blond hair as he takes the vampire's gloved hand in his and _finally_ takes Wade to the bathroom for some much needed relief. 

With an empty bladder, and the adrenaline of the whole _‘Saint Nick’_ visit gone, Wade can’t help but feel exhausted as he and Peter start their long trek out of the mall and all the way back to Peter’s apartment. The vampire rests his head against Peter’s arm as they walk, his small legs refusing to match the pace of Peter’s much longer ones. 

His Spider-Papa is one smart cookie, because he immediately picks up on the change in Wades strides, stopping all together and looking down at the small vampire. “What's wrong sweetie? Tired after all of that?” 

Wade just rubs his gloved hand to his eye as other mall goers pass around them. “Y-yeah…” he mumbles out, looking up at Peter with glossy eyes filled with the glimmer of the artificial candlelight's decorating the plaza, “can you carry me?....Please?” 

With just that one magic word, Wade is whisked up into Peter’s web-like grasp. The vampire cuddles into those strong spider arms. 

“Why of course, sugar plum. Now let's head home.” 

Held tightly in Peter’s arms, Wade relaxes as the cryptid couple finally exit the mall of horrors into the cold, quiet, dark comfort of the New York city December evening. 

* * *

After their wonderful, (and by wonderful he means absolutely terrifying), mall adventure, Peter decided that maybe they should spruce up some of the webbings around the apartment for the holidays. He also said (with a twinkle in his many eyes) that holiday decorating was one good way to prevent the spirit from punishing Wade. Peter didn’t need to say anymore.

They were going to decorate _the fuck_ out of this apartment. 

Remember those magical candles all over the mall that somehow didn’t burn the whole place down to the ground? Well, Peter has a bunch of those mini candles on a string, and they are the most magical thing since the invention of electricity and light bulbs. Peter even explained that they, too, were mini light bulbs, although they are _EL. E. Dee’s_ or something so they are better for the environment. _Modern folk and their environments._

With some magical spider wall climbing powers, and a few globs of webbing here and there, they swiftly line the whole apartment with soft warm lights. Light enough to capture that old candle-light mood, but not bright enough to hurt either of their delicate preternatural eyes. Plus, they cast the coolest shadows against all the different webs. It’s like any vampire’s interior decorator dreams. 

Those aren't the only lights that Peter puts up in the apartment. On top of the fireplace sits a golden candelabra, with one stand slightly higher than the rest. As Wade gazes into the flickering flame on the leftmost candle a word accidentally slips from his lips before he can even stop it. 

“Jewish?” 

Even with his hands covering his mouth, Peter must have heard. He crawls down from his decorating spot on the ceiling. 

“You mean the menorah?” he just asks with a smile. Huh, guess it wasn’t a rude thing to say afterall…

Wade just nods, staring at the flickering flame and drip of wax slowly falling to coat the metal. 

“I put it out for my parents. Apparently Judaism was really important to them. My father used to try and educate people the best he could about it…” Peter pauses, his eyes lost in the flame as well. “Or so I was told.” 

The vampire just blinks up at Peter. “What do you mean? He didn’t take you to church?” 

Peter shakes his head. “No, they died when I was really young. I don’t remember them. My aunt and uncle weren’t really big on the faith so I don’t know too much about it. But I like to put it out as a remembrance for what they and my ancestors believed in, and the struggles they went through to just believe in what they wanted to believe in.” 

Wade feels a lump form in his throat at Peter's words, and finds it hard to swallow. He knows some of the stories of the Jewish people from Rome. Everyone in his village was without a doubt Christian, as dictated by the Church. But there were always rumors about certain families, that they didn’t follow the truth that the Church told, and they were always met with cold stares. 

He can’t help but feel some level of guilt, as if he was a part of the struggles Peter just so casually mentioned. But as far as Wade’s concerned, the Church _sucked_ and he was forsaken by them as well. 

Of course Peter and his creepy spider-like senses immediately picks up on Wade’s melancholy, and the brunette simply ruffles Wade’s hair. “Don't you worry your silly little head about it. Hey, why don’t we have a snowball fight?” 

_Snowball fight? But, there’s not enough snow outside…_

Using his super cool web-making slits, Peter weaves a small little ball of webbing, placing it in Wade’s blackened hand. “Tada, snowballs! Well, web balls. But they're better, because if they hit something they explode!” 

Wade’s eyes grow wide. _Explode? Isn’t that a little dangerous?_

But with a flick of his wrist, Peter launches one of the gooey web balls at the wall and it bursts into a large expansive web, yet another festive decoration to the apartment. 

“Cool…” Wade mumbles, looking at the ball he holds in his hands, then back up to his Spider-Papa for more directions on this newfangled indoor sport. 

Peter hums as he makes five more of the balls, handing over two more to Wade while keeping three to himself. 

“Here’s how the game will go, it will start when the candle goes out on the menorah and the first person to hit someone with the ball and stick them to the wall wins.”

“What does the winner get, Papa?”

“To pick tonight's movie.” 

_Oh it’s on, they are totally going to watch that new Frozen movie. The lizard is just sooo cute._

* * *

As the golden glow of the candle fizzles out, the apartment is cloaked in darkness—the signal for the games to begin. 

Clutching his three ‘snowballs,’ Wade scatters into the bedroom. He hears the familiar skuttle of Peter on the ceiling, his red and black predatory eyes no doubt already searching for his prey. With his freaky cool spider powers Peter would appear to have the upper hand, but Wade has… ancient knowledge… or something. Plus he's a smaller, a harder target to hit. This movie choice is **_his._ **

Quietly ducking under the bed, he hears the soft shuffling of Peter on the ceiling, most likely scanning the room for signs of the small vampire. The sounds of his clothes rustling grows closer and closer as the vampire stops his breathing, remaining still as to not alert the predator to his position. 

But this daddy long legs is one apex predator, and Wade feels the dip of the mattress above him as two feet finally touch down onto the hardwood floor. Wade has only seconds before his Papa finds him, and he’s forced to watch some boring movie on nuclear fusion or some other gross nerdy stuff. Magical snow princesses are on the line, and Wade has an idea that just might be crazy enough to work…

Rolling out from under the opposite side of the bed, Wade quickly throws one of the web balls in the direction of where his Spider-Papa stands. As the spider pounces at the source of the ‘snowball’, Wade quickly rolls back under the bed, popping out from the side where Peter was originally standing. 

_Didn’t expect that one, now didja?_

Just as the spider turns to see Wade, the vampire throws one of his balls, a direct hit, sticking Peter to the wall with a moist _‘splat’!_

“Haha! I got you Papa! I won!” Wade squeals out as he throws his remaining ‘snowball’ at the ceiling for funsies. The apartment can _always_ use more webs afterall. 

“You sure did there, sugar plum,” Peter grins out as he lays there, stuck to the wall in his own webbing. It’s pretty kinky if you ask Wade, not that he knows alot about that stuff anyway… 

Truth be told, Wade did think for a hot second that he actually had his spidery Papa in quite a bind (see what he did there, puns are _funny_ ). But alas, nothing can stop this huntsman, as Peter's sharp claw-like nails rip at the side of the webbing, promptly freeing him from his silk cocoon. 

“Booo, no fair Papa, you were supposed to stay stuck,” the vampire says with a pout, stomping adorably over to select the magic disc that holds the tales of the ice princess. 

Peter just chuckles as he turns the festive lights strung within the webbing back on as the two of them settle down on the couch for their movie. “Sorry sweetie, maybe some other time.” 

Wade still has yet to see this _‘other time’_ actually happen.

* * *

That was a nice trip down festive memory lane now wasn’t it? Let’s get back to this wretched _‘Nightmare Before Christmas’_ shall we? 

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, everyone knew Wade fucked up, that’s without a doubt. 

See, the thing is, Peter has one teeny weeny tiny rule that is _absolute._ That rule being, when Wade’s about to gush his fountain of iron-infused Kool-Aid, that he tells Peter ASAP. Because for starters, blood stains are way harder to clean off the floor than the webs. And also, Peter kiiiiinda needs the blood to survive. So when Wade accidentally forgets to tell Peter until he’s painted the floor a very festive crimson, he knows he’s in _big_ trouble. 

Luckily for Wade, Peter just had happened to be out shopping (see it’s _totally_ not Wade’s fault! His Papa wasn’t even here to help him!), so the vampire has about T-minus thirty minutes to clean up the crime scene on the floor before a very angry spider comes back. 

For the record, cleaning up blood _sucks._ It’s sticky and probably a bio-hazard or something, and a wet rag and some weird odious cloth things in a yellow container definitely didn’t do a stellar job or wiping his blood sin clean. So he does what any genius vampire would do, and sweeps it under the rug. 

_Peter will never know._

Peter knows almost immediately. 

Nothing quite says _‘you’re in trouble’_ like a full name call and a very menacing tap of a shoe. Wade slinks over to the entrance where Peter is still in his coat and scarf from his outdoor extravaganza. 

Those red eyes narrow down at him, and he squirms under their gaze. 

“Wade Winston Wilson. Why does it smell like blood in here?” 

“I-I don’t know Papa…” 

Wrong answer apparently, because Peter just raises an eyebrow. “Answer me Wade, or you won’t like the consequences.” 

Well he’s just right screwed, isn’t he?

“I-I ate a rat?” he tries, but Peter isn’t buying it. Wade doesn’t even eat rats. 

Like the arachnid equivalent to a bloodhound, Peter goes right over to the rug, pulling it up to see the remnants of Wade’s little _‘accident’._ And he is _not_ amused. 

“Wade.” _Uh oh spaghetti-o’s._ “What was your one rule?” 

“....to tell you I need help with the blood before it gushes out….” Wade admits, looking down at his little mess on the floor. 

“So explain what this is?” 

“B-but Papa!” the vampire tries. “You were gone! I was going to get you!” Peter only shakes his head. 

“You know better Wade, you should have asked before I left.” Peter sighs, taking off his coat and shoes and shoving a bag into the closet. “It’s a shame, too, because it’s Christmas Eve, and Saint Nick _really_ hates people being naughty on Christmas Eve. He’s _definitely_ going to punish you now.” 

The vampire gulps, his pale skin already as pale as it could possibly go. “W-what’s he going to do?” 

Peter just shrugs. “No clue but whatever it is it can’t be good. Rumor says the people who are naughty on Christmas Eve are never seen again.” 

_N-never seen again?! You mean he’ll never see his Spider-Papa again?_

“P-papa please! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I-I’ll be a good boy! Don’t let the spirit take me away!”

“Well,” Peter drawls, sitting down on the couch. “I suppose if you ask to be punished like a good boy, and take your punishment well, he’ll overlook how naughty you were just this once.” 

Wade lets out a small whine. Peter’s punishments _suck._ But spirits are scarier, so it’s a no-brainer.

“...please punish me, Papa…” he whispers. Peter just sits back further into the couch. 

“What was that, pumpkin?”

“P-please punish me, Papa!” he pleads again, louder, looking straight up into Peter’s eight eyes. 

“Such a good boy, asking your Papa to punish you when you’ve been naughty, ” Peter coos, patting his lap. “Okay, up you go.” 

_Now? He means right this second? But he-_

Peter’s various eyes narrow, so with a gulp Wade climbs right up, over Peter's lap, really wanting to be his Papa’s good boy so the red spirit doesn’t take him away. 

Being put over Peter’s knee always makes him feel even smaller than he really is, like he actually is an unruly child needing to be put in his place. He can feel the alizarin flush already on his cheeks from the utter humiliation of being spanked by Peter. Without even so much as a back rub, Peter's hand comes down hard over his ass, and the vampire can’t help but yelp out. 

_Are spiders supposed to be really strong or something? Because Peter’s swats fucking hurt._

As even more blows are dealt, Wade begins to squirm over Peter’s knee. Half because they hurt, _duh,_ the other half because he just realized… 

…he has to _pee._

“P-Papa! N-no! Wait!” he cries out in a futile attempt to get Peter to cease his spanking. But Peter doesn’t stop. More electrifying hits are dealt as Wade wails again, “P-Papa please! I-I need to use the bathroom!” 

Peter’s spanks rain down harder as tears prick dangerously at Wade’s eyes. “Don’t think you are getting out of this Wade. Now be good.” Peter’s voice, like his hits, is firm and Wade _really_ can’t hold it anymore. 

With a hard _smack_ , Wade feels the growing warm wetness in his pants—right over Peter. He promptly breaks down into sobs over the sheer humiliation of not only pissing himself during his spanking, but pissing himself _all over his Papa's lap._

“Wade,” Peter gasps, as finally his lead hand stops its assault on the vampire’s poor small ass. “You naughty, naughty boy! I can’t believe you wet yourself during your punishment. Tsk Tsk.” 

Wade sobs. “-m’ sorry Papa...I’m sorry...I-I didn’t mean to!” he whimpers out between teary hiccups. 

The spider's long fingernails gently run down Wades' back, somehow both simultaneously comforting, and menacing. “Saint Nick really isn’t going to be pleased now, Wade.” 

The small vampire freezes at his Papa’s words. _No this can’t be happening. He needs to appease the spirit so he’s not taken away from Papa!_

“N-no! Papa, I’m sorry! Please don’t let him take me away!” 

Peter lets out a small hum as he gives Wade another hard spank. “Maybe if you admit just how naughty you are and how badly you need Papa’s punishments, he’ll forgive you.” 

Wade lets out another cry at the spank, truly feeling like _such_ a naughty boy. “P-please Papa...I-I’ve been a naughty boy…” he swallows the lump in his throat, “I-I need Papa’s punishments so I can be good…” 

With ease, Peter stands Wade up off of his lap, pointing his long finger back at the bedroom. “I want you out of your soiled clothes, bent over the bed on your tiptoes with your naughty bottom in the air. Do I make myself clear?” 

“...y-yes Papa…” 

“Good boy.” 

* * *

Well, here he is, out of his piss-soaked clothing, and bent over the bed on his tiptoes with his head in the plush comforter. Funny that they call it a comforter—for Wade, there's no comfort to be found, only shame and embarrassment. Because, whatever Peter has in store is going to be _oodles_ of fun. If by 'funʼ it means throbbing, stinging, burning, and painful (clearly all the descriptors of _‘fun’)._

Wade is so deep in his thoughts of how utterly _screwed_ he is that he doesn’t even hear Peter enter the room. Itʼs only when a hand is placed on the small of his back that he jumps slightly, making a soft whimper as that hand crawls down to his already warm bottom. 

But it doesn't strike him. Rather it put something _inside_ of him. He whines at the pressure, confused and indignant. 

“Naughty boys on Christmas Eve get plenty of figgy pudding, ” Peter’s chipper voice comments, and Wade is lost. What does figgy pudding have to do with his punishment and the mystery object stuffed inside his cheeks? 

Peter doesn’t elaborate, and Wade knows better than to dare question. The bed dips slightly as his Papa sits on top of it, running his fingers through Wades hair and _smiling._ Yeah, this **_really_** isn’t going to end well for Wade now is it? 

Just when heʼs starting to think that Peter was just pulling another one of his mind-fucks on him, simply letting him wallow in his own humiliation for a few more minutes before starting the real punishment, that's when he starts to feel it. The burning. The burning from _inside of him._

“P-papa…” he whines out as he wiggles slightly against the painful heat in his ass. 

“I see it’s starting to work its Christmas magic, isn’t it?” Papa says, rubbing his hand down the length of the vampire's small back. “I think we’ll let it stew for a bit now, won’t we Wade?” 

Wade just whimpers into the red comforter as his legs strain to keep him up on his tippy toes. 

This won't be fun, but he can get through this. For Papa… and Saint Nicholas… and for the spirit of the winter solstice festivities… _Right?_

* * *

Wade can't get through this. 

His asshole is on fire. Like when you eat too much spicy food kind of fire but somehow even _spicier._ And to make matters worse, despite his squirms and whimpers, Peter doesn’t move from his spot on the comforter, watching Wade struggle like prey strung up in a spider's silky webbing. Eventually, Wade learns that the more he relaxes, the less it hurts. So _of course_ that’s when Papa gets up from the bed placing his hand on the small of Wade’s back. 

“I think we’ve waited long enough now that we can start your real punishment, hmm Wade?” 

The vampire can only whine out, and _pray_ it’s not the belt. 

Itʼs not the belt. It’s way _worse._ Go figure. 

“A festive caning would be most appealing to Saint Nick, don’t you think?” The spider hums as the smooth stick is tapped across Wade’s behind. 

“N-no, Papa please, not the cane! Anything but the cane!" 

Peter doesn’t even grace him with an answer. “Since Christmas is on the twenty-fifth, I think twenty five strokes will suffice. And you better not break your position or you’ll get two extra for each time you mess up.” 

_Oh sweet baby Jesus._

There was no hesitation, no warning, just the swift _woosh_ of the cane through the air and a painful line of heat erupting over Wade’s already pinkened ass. And with the blow, he tightened around the plug, feeling even more burning pain from inside as well. 

His knees gave out and he sobbed quietly into the bed, to which Peter rewarded him with two more hits, right to his thighs. 

“Up, Wade. Don’t make me ask again.” 

_Spiders are such assholes…_

So with a trembling lip and tears on his eyelashes, he gets back up on his tippy toes, only to be rewarded for his stellar behavior with even _more_ cane strikes, imagine that...

Wade breaks quite easily. He was already utterly humiliated after wetting himself over Peter’s lap, and being forced in such an embarrassing position, on display for Peter. On top of that, Papa holds nothing back, so each strike hurts even more than the last. And let’s not even get started on the horrors of the red spirit and how they may or may not take Wade away for being naughty. 

The small vampire can only sob out into the comforter, choking out apologies and pleas through bubbly hiccups. “P-papa please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I won’t do it again! It hurts, Papa please!” 

His Papa stops for a second, gently rubbing the stripes of red welts along Wade’s ass, and the boy flinches. “Aww, I know sugar plum, but you had one rule, sweetie. And Papas need to make sure their little boys follow the rules, now don’t we?” 

Sniffling, Wade simply replies with, “Yes, Papa.” 

“That's my good boy,” the brunette coos as his slender fingers gently rub the vampires quivering back. “Only ten more. You can take them for Papa now can’t you?” 

“Y-yes Papa…” 

“So good for me,” Peter praises as five more heavy-handed strikes land on Wade’s abused flesh and he squirms, sobbing from the stinging pain. “Now what’s our rule Wade?” his Papa asks, idly tapping the cane against his burning ass. 

“T-to tell Papa when I need to be drained so I don’t have an accident…” 

_“Good_ boy. Five more, sweetheart.” 

The last five are the absolute _worst thing to ever happen to him._ Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating a tad, but they fucking _hurt_ okay? From the fire within, to the pure hellfire on his behind, he can’t decide what was worse. So he does as any normal six hundred year-old vampire boy would do: sobs like those lost children in that giant mall purgatory, trapped in there for eternity with the red spirit. 

As soon as his last lick is dealt, Wade’s small sobbing frame is whisked up into Peter’s warm, spidery embrace, as his fingers wipe away the wetness from his vampire boy's eyes. 

“Shhh,” his Papa whispers as he rubs down the vampire’s back. “Papa’s got you sweetie, so perfect for me, I’m so proud.” 

The blond’s blackened finger tips tighten in the fabric of Papa’s shirt as he sobs into the spider's broad chest. “P-papa, Papa! I’m sowwry, I’m sowwry...”

“Aww, darling,” comes Peter’s silky smooth voice as kisses are pressed to Wade’s tear-stained cheeks. “I know, sugar plum. Papa’s not mad, Papa loves you very much.” 

The vampire hiccups as he looks up at Peter through red-rimmed eyes, “I-is the red spirit going to take me away…?”

“Never. You were such a good boy Wade, he is very proud of you, too. Papa would never let anyone take you away.” The brunette presses even more soft kisses to his sniffling vampire boy's cheeks, gently slipping a long, dainty, spider-silk nightgown over Wade’s head. 

With a hiccup, Wade squeezes Peter tight. “P-papa...it hurts Papa…” 

Technically, it _was_ Wade’s punishment for breaking his Papa’s rules. So Peter _should_ have just left him to fall asleep with a painfully throbbing ass. But as Wade lets out soft sniffles, clinging to the fabric of Papa’s shirt for dear life, _maybe_ looking up at his Papa with wide tear-rimmed eyes, his merciful Papa must have decided his baby boy deserves a small treat for his good behavior. After all, it _is_ the holidays. Plus, it’s not like Peter gets a little snack out of it either. Nope, totally _only_ because he wanted to give Wade a little relief. 

Peter holds the teary vampire close and Wade feels the familiar warm heat on his neck from the prick of Papa’s sharp fangs. Wade can only let out a small gasp as he feels the sweet numbing of the venom flood his small body, turning him into practically a limp doll in the spider’s arms. 

His Spider-Papa quietly slurps up his small snack, as Wade’s eyelids grow heavier. The small vampire begins to drift off into the floaty warmth, as Peter pulls away giving a gentle lick up Wade’s pale, slim neck. 

Peter rewards his adorably sleepy vampire with a soft kiss on the forehead. His Papa’s quiet whispers were the last thing Wade heard.

“Sleep now, sweetheart.” 

And so Wade drifts off into the land of dancing sugar plums, warm in Peter’s arms as the first flakes of Christmas snow flutter down to the streets of New York. 

* * *

Opening his eyes with a yawn, Wade sits up in the bed, wincing at the tenderness in his backside from last nights _‘fun’._ His eyes drift over at Peter, still asleep next to him, but then they land at the foot of the bed, on a box wrapped in crimson with a golden bow. _A present?_

“Papa, Papa!” he whispers, giving the spider a gentle shake as Peter stirs awake, rubbing his eyes. 

“Mmmhn? What is it sweetie?” 

“Papa! Look!” the blond exclaims as he points to the mysterious box. “It’s a present!” 

“It sure is. Why don’t you open it?” 

The vampire's blue eyes just blink in confusion. Is it for _him?_ He’s never gotten a gift on the holidays before…

Taking the box into his hands he unfurls the golden bow, gently tearing the shiny red paper and opening the box with a gasp. “Papa! It’s a unicorn!” He hugs the plush creature close, burying his face in it’s softness. 

“Merry Christmas, Wade,” Peter says with a smile, and Wade _totally_ doesn’t wipe a few tears out of the corner of eyes. 

“Thank you, Peter…” he whispers as he crawls back over to the brunette, embracing him and his new unicorn friend. “I love you, Papa…” 

“I love you too, Wade,” Peter replies, returning the vampire's soft embrace. 

* * *

Wade _may_ have forgotten how that Christmas scripture had ended. But it was probably filled with some clichéd lesson or moral, or maybe even with a mention of that spirit of Christmas fellow, Saint Nick (hopefully not that would be _terrifying)._ But for the first time in centuries, Wade feels a spark of warmth and light amid the cold the winter solstice brings—the warmth of his super amazing Spider-Papa. 

_And to Peter’s parents, worry not, for your son as well has found someone who loves him, eight eyes and all! Also, albeit a bit late, Chanukah sameach!_

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there it was folks. Hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. To be quite honest I didn't expect to continue this AU, but what can I say, they just _spoke to me_ okay? 
> 
> Also super big thanks to[ WaterMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterMe/pseuds/WaterMe) for the huge Beta and all the suggestions and putting up with my weird Dm's over this story xD Also thanks to [CuteAsAMuntin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteAsAMuntin/pseuds/CuteAsAMuntin) for the additional beta and Chanukah advice! Aaaannd to anyone and everyone on the Bromantic Server for being forced to read whatever cursed shit I wrote in regards to this universe. 


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